Logan slowly walked over to the groups of mercenaries, joining them as they began walking towards the outskirts of the city.
As he joined them, he could feel multiple stares directed at him for a few seconds.
'Most of them seem to be around D-C rank hunters,' Logan thought, glancing around. 'Around silver or gold core.'
"I haven't seen your face here before," a thin man in his thirties said, as he walked beside Logan.
The man wore flexible metal armor while he had a shield and a sword on his back.
"I just got here a day ago," Logan replied, giving a small nod.
The man nodded. "I see…" he said, looking down as they followed after the others.
Suddenly looking up, the man smiled as he held his hand out.
"I'm Arnar," he said, shaking Logan's hand.
"Colin," Logan replied without hesitation, using the name on his fake ID.
Arnar raised an eyebrow. "Colin, huh? Where're you from, if you don't mind me asking?"
"America," Logan replied, smiling faintly.
